


chiaroscuro

by AdorabloodthirstyKitty



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 22:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdorabloodthirstyKitty/pseuds/AdorabloodthirstyKitty
Summary: just a tiny little thing I was working on and don't know what else to do with.  bigger and better dbh stuff to come but for now here's some short and sweet fluff





	chiaroscuro

**Author's Note:**

> just a tiny little thing I was working on and don't know what else to do with. bigger and better dbh stuff to come but for now here's some short and sweet fluff

Loving Hank came slowly, much like his personality, his personhood. Hank was someone who, despite reservations in the beginning of their working relationship, had been someone Connor wanted to be on good terms with. Despite their obvious differences and personality clashes, Connor found he liked working with Hank. And eventually, Hank found that he liked working with him, too.

Connor isn't oblivious to the many differences between himself and his partner. Hank’s age, looks, personality, everything is almost the perfect opposite of himself, polar opposites that coexist perfectly, as if by design. Yin and yang, as Hank had put it once, bright hair all but glowing under the light of the moon as they held each other in the darkness of Hank’s room.

Ever since Connor's deviancy, his shift from machine to something more, he’s noticed things about Hank, kept memories and notes and observations on the other. The way his brows shift, one lifting in skepticism or judgement when Connor brings something up that he doesn't agree with. The color and shade of his eyes, steely and cool and mesmerizing. Each line in his face has been kept track of, every facial expression or shift he's seen stored in an ever-growing file kept solely for Hank.

He knew the songs he listened to back and forth between crime scenes, in the mornings and nights as they drove to and from the precinct. Mostly metal from several years ago, but sometimes jazz, especially on slower days, on paperwork days and rainy days that drag too long, on days where he's more haggard, more quiet.

Hank is still something of a mystery to Connor, a star too bright to stare directly into that draws the eye anyway. Hank had commented on his curiosity more than once, but beyond any and everyone else Hank is something that Connor never loses interest in.

He shifts in his seat at his desk across from his partner, the two of them in their own little bubble, the only two people in the world when Hank lofts his head and meets his gaze, the world melting away beneath the magnitude of that stare. Connor feels the light brush of a one of Hank’s shoes against his ankle, feels the pressure when Hank leaves it there, and he smiles.


End file.
